Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan. Christine Rimmer

saw her maman’s heart-shaped delicate face, her pink cheeks and radiant smile. She saw her dad as a young man again, a happy man. He’d met her maman when he was in the army, stationed in France, and he’d loved her on sight. So he’d swept her off her tiny feet and brought her home to reign over the bakery he’d inherited from his parents. Lizzie’s dad had lived for her maman.

      And when her maman was gone …

      Lizzie blinked and shook her head. No point in going there. She had a meal to prepare. And then she had butter-thick cookie batter to mix with toasted pecans, roll into sugared balls and flatten with the round base of a glass.

      She was just turning for the kitchen when she heard the front door open.

      Ethan appeared from the foyer, ushering a striking blonde and a curvy, big-eyed brunette in ahead of him. He spotted her. “Lizzie, there you are.”

      She laughed. “Ethan, what are you up to now?”

      He put an arm across the blonde’s shoulders. “Lizzie, meet Corey’s beautiful bride, Erin Castro.” He hooked the other arm around the brunette. “And this gorgeous creature is Erika, Dillon’s wife. My brothers are such fortunate men.”

      Lizzie recognized the two from family photos. “Hey, great to meet you both at last.”

      Erin said, “Hi,” kind of limply. Erika echoed the word. Both women looked a little … what? Unhappy, maybe, and worried. Especially Erin.

      Lizzie gestured toward the living-room sofa and chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll brew a pot of coffee and see if there’s anything sweet around here …” She turned for the kitchen.

      “Coffee would be great,” Ethan said. “And it’s you we came to see.”

      She stopped, turned. “Me?”

      The women shared a glance. Erin spoke. “Ethan seems to think you might be able to save me from disaster.”

      “Yikes. There’s a disaster?”

      “There certainly is. A cake disaster. I went to finalize payment on my wedding cake today and found out the baker has skipped town.”

      Lizzie let out a groan of sympathy. “But the wedding is Saturday, isn’t it?”

      Erin gave a sad little sigh. “Exactly.”

      Ethan said coaxingly, “And I told them that you’re unbeatable in the kitchen. And that you’re planning to leave me to open a bakery …”

      Lizzie grinned, pleased. “You want me to do the wedding cake.”

      Erin let out a cry. “Oh, it’s too much. Way too much to ask.” She put her hands to her pink cheeks. “I’m so sorry we bothered you.”

      “Hold on, now.” Ethan tried to settle her down.

      But Erin would not be “settled.” She turned to Erika. “We really have to get going. I need to work this problem out and I need to do it yesterday …”

      Lizzie ached for the poor girl. “Hey, did I say no?”

      Erin blinked. “But I … Well, could you? Would you?”

      “I can, yes. And I would be honored. And you can relax. It’s very much doable. Mostly it’s going to be about getting the equipment I’ll need together on the fly like this. But the cake itself is no problem.”

      “No problem?” Erin was shaking her head. “It’s for three hundred people.”

      Lizzie couldn’t bear to see the poor woman so worried. She went to her, took both her small, slim hands in her own larger ones. “Let me take this worry off your shoulders. Planning a wedding is stressful enough without your baker running off on you.” The man—why was she sure it had to be a man?—should be shot.

      A tear trembled in Erin’s thick lashes. “Oh, if you could …”

      “I can. And I will. You’ll see. I won’t let you down. I baked several multitiered wedding cakes when I worked in my family’s bakery, before college. And I’ve done four more since then, for friends in Texas who had big, gorgeous weddings.”

      The tear escaped Erin’s lashes and spilled down her cheek. She freed a hand from Lizzie’s grasp to take the tissue Ethan had produced for her. “I know it’s only a cake. It’s not the end of the world. I shouldn’t let it get to me like this …”

      Erika moved in closer and wrapped an arm around Erin’s shoulder. “It’s all going to work out.” She winked at Lizzie. “My instincts tell me that Lizzie is just what we need right now.”

      “Yes, I am,” said Lizzie with a low laugh. “Now come on into the kitchen. I’ll make the coffee and see if we have some packaged cookies around here because I haven’t had time to bake anything yet. You can tell me all about the fabulous cake I’ll be creating for you.”

      “Oh, thank you. Thank you …”

      Over Erin’s shoulder, Ethan caught Lizzie’s eye and grinned in satisfaction. Lizzie grinned right back at him. He was pleased to have found a way to solve Erin’s problem. And he knew that Lizzie loved it when he brought her a challenge.

      The kitchen had a big round table positioned in a bow window very much like the one in Ethan’s house in Texas. In fact, Lizzie had pretty much chosen the house because it seemed to her a slightly smaller version of his Midland home. She’d known he would feel instantly comfortable here—then again, Ethan felt comfortable wherever he was.

      He went right to the table and pulled out chairs for the bride and for Erika as Lizzie got the coffee going and put some Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies on a plate. Within a few minutes, they were all munching cookies and sipping coffee.

      Lizzie got out her notebook. “Okay, now, tell me all about your perfect wedding cake.”

      Erin knew exactly what she wanted. “It has round tiers—six tiers. And real flowers. I have a lot of colors. So I thought if the cake itself was all white, we could put the colors in the flowers. I have mauve, red, purple, apple green, light orange and lilac …” Lizzie jotted down the colors as she ticked them off.

      Erika added, “Each of her bridesmaids and matrons gets a different color.”

      Erin smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Erika’s dress is red.”

      “That will be beautiful.” Lizzie started sketching. “Filling?”

      “Raspberry preserves? And I want fondant on top of buttercream icing for that beautiful smooth look …”

      “The porcelain look,” Lizzie said. “And the fondant holds up well without refrigeration.”

      “Yes.” Erin frowned. “I know the fondant isn’t usually very tasty …”

      “Mine is—does that sound like I’m bragging?” She shrugged. “Well, I am.”

      Erin beamed. “Good. I have to tell you, your confidence is really encouraging.”

      Erika chuckled. “Now is not a time she needs a modest baker.”

      Ethan let out a rumble of laughter. “Lizzie? Modest about baking? Never. But then, why should she be?”

      Lizzie granted him an approving nod. “White cake?” she asked Erin.

      Erin said, “We wanted pink champagne cake. And can you add some vanilla mousse filling with the raspberry?”

      “You’ve got it. I’ll need to get with your florist. Gerbera daisies in your colors would be nice, trailing in a spiral up over the tiers …”

      Erin blinked. “How did you know?”

      Lizzie shrugged again. “I can do some pretty white fondant flowers, too, for another accent, as well as edible pearls.” She turned her notebook around